Thieves
by FanGirl16
Summary: The beautiful golden ring dangled from the handlebar where Marik had left it. Its spikes jingled every time Marik's leg hooked over Bakura's shoulder and ran up the cold gold. The keys in the ignition wobbled with every thrust as it shook the bike. Yaoi. Thiefshipping. Happy Birthday, Jem!


**Hey! I know I should be updating but this oneshot is for my best friend Jem Kallop. It is her birthday today and I wanted to give her a thiefshipping oneshot. Honestly, I had no idea what plot to write s this is just a really simple one. I am not too pleased with the ending because I rushed it. I really wanted to get it done today for her. However, if she enjoys it then I don't care. **

**I hope you love it Jem. Happy birthday. **

**Please read and review.**

Thieves

Marik cursed again as he continued through the dark multi-storey car park. The warm piece of gold pressed between his fingers seemed to glow within the darkness, but Marik didn't care at all about it. To him, it was just a stupid necklace; actually, it wasn't even his. A smirk lifted Marik's lips at that thought. The stolen golden ring sat in his palm, nails skimming over it as he walked. Its five, sharp, golden spikes hung limply and swayed to the right as Marik took a sharp left. He couldn't help but glance at the horrid looking cars parked either side of him. The dark stains of dirt stuck to the multiple paint on the vehicles, obviously not been washed in several months. How the drivers of these things could not be put off from the rust on them, he'd never know.

When it came to cars, Marik hated them. It wasn't the look of them or anything like that, but personally Marik just couldn't imagine himself riding in one. His sister had a car but he had never driven it. Although Ishizu had wanted him to get one, Marik just couldn't let himself buy one. He had tried to drive one...once? Maybe twice? Still, he had decided that cars were not something he could get used to.

Marik turned another corner; glad he was now surrounded by less distasteful cars and instead replaced by scooters and bikes. Now, these were more for him. Instantly his eyes lit up at the beautiful machine at the end of the array of cars. Its red paint, clean, shone brightly amongst the dull paint of the other vehicles. Even if only the handlebars were showing, Marik would have been able to identify the beauty that was his treasure. Without hesitating, the Egyptian forced his legs to hurry up and run the rest of the way to it. His gorgeous motorbike stood waiting for him as he pushed his legs more, almost dropping the ring in the process. Tanned fingers of his free hand reached up to brush over the cold tank. He growled low in his throat as the keys were not in the ignition where he had left them. Of course, he knew exactly who had stolen them. If he hadn't have known, then he wouldn't have had any reason to take the golden object in his hand.

Though he knew Bakura would kill him for stealing his stuff, the thief shouldn't have really pissed Marik off by stealing his keys in the first place. Why, was another reason entirely. Marik had no idea why Bakura had decided to sneak into the parking lot and steal his keys. On the other hand, it _was _Marik's fault for forgetting he had left them there in the first place. In his rush to get out of the rain this morning, Marik had spun his bike into the nearest spot and jumped off, planning to dry himself off somewhere. Of course, now he knew the consequences of his actions. He had no spare key and had no way of starting up the beautiful machine under his hand.

At least this opportunity allowed him to get his own back after going back to retrieve the keys only to find a scruffy note in its place. In fact, the very note he had found cello taped to the tank was now a ball stuffed in his trouser pocket. The quickly made ball stuck into the fabric and brushed his hip harshly with each movement of his leg. He could still see the words, scribbled in small handwriting at the back of his mind. The scruffy writing would have been difficult to read if Marik hadn't seen it so many times before. Bakura had small hands and thin fingers so the way he held a pen was between his middle finger and thumb. It pressed against his third finger so there was a noticeable bump where the pen had sat. Marik had memorised the quick way Bakura's wrist would flick as he wrote, the way his teeth bit his bottom lip as he concentrated.

Only, with these words, Bakura had not put much effort into them or the way the calligraphy swayed across the paper. Marik could even imagine Bakura's carelessness as he flicked the pen and created small blotches of ink which now sat in the corners of the screwed up ball. The ink was still slightly damp due to the rain that still hammered on outside. Luckily for him, he couldn't go anywhere with no keys which kept him dry. Marik sighed and leant his back against the bike. He had left it on its stand so he was able to lean against it without it stumbling. With careful fingers, Marik reached into his pocket and brushed his unnaturally long nails against the piece of paper. It stabbed his fingertips as he wrapped his hand around it before pulling it roughly out of his pocket. It snagged several times on his trousers before he finally managed to hold the ball to his face again. He pointlessly examined it, noticing that the little bit of cello tape remained on the corner.

Bakura was lucky that none of that had stuck to the paint enough to remove the beautiful red. If that were to happen then Bakura would have no fingers left to even write another damn note. Marik snickered at the thought of that thief with no fingers. His hands would look even smaller and there was no way he could go around stealing keys then. The grotesque thought actually had Marik throwing his head back and laughing. If anyone were in this deserted car park then he would have seemed insane. When his cackles were nothing but lingering chuckles, Marik managed to pick at the cello tape and flick it carelessly to the concrete floor. It was hardly litter and the boy couldn't give a fuck at what anyone would think of him. To be honest, he actually looked quite creepy standing alone in the dark. Nevertheless, he had a perfect explanation for his predicament. He smirked, hooking the golden ring in the crook of his elbow by the thin string. It flopped at his side, only moving when Marik's hands played with the paper ball once more.

He wasn't even sure why he had kept it, since it was crap to him now. Maybe it was because this was the only note Bakura had ever bothered to write for him, although the content was something best thrown away. The Egyptian ignored his wandering thoughts and unscrambled the screwed up paper to reveal tons of creases amongst the words still written boldly there. The paper bent in on itself due to the thousand imperfections of its creases. They were like veins expanding over the paper thin skin, ink bleeding over it and forming words. Marik read them five times with a roll of his piercing, violet eyes. Such scrawl matched the ugly letters.

_You know Ishtar, leaving your keys in such a place as this can result in your bike being stolen. You're lucky I just decided to walk past and retrieve them for you, although, you probably won't ever get them back. If you want them, you'll have to come and get them _

There was no signature or name to tell him who the note was from, but Marik knew that Bakura was the only one who would write something like that. Besides, Bakura was the only one who called him by his surname and never first. At first, when he had discovered the paper taped to the tank, he had merely laughed at it. Of course, he had then looked to the ignition and found the keys missing. At that, his fury had overpowered his mind as he sought out the arrogant thief. He hadn't been in the small cafe where they usually sat together. To Marik's delight, he had found Bakura's ring on the table beside a full plate of an English breakfast. Despite moving away due to familial issues, Bakura still loved to eat an English breakfast, even when it was way past the hour of morning. Marik thought that it was probably to keep a memory of England in his mind, but Bakura had assured him that he only ate it because he liked it. Marik always shrugged and continued eating his cheese sandwich, frowning in distaste at Bakura's eating habits.

On that morning though, Bakura's plate was still full and the ring pressed against the wooden table top in their usual place by the window. Marik had been careful, expecting Bakura to jump out of anywhere and scare the shit out of him, but Bakura never did. Deducing Bakura had gone to the bathroom before eating; Marik had snuck in and claimed the gold for his own. It seemed the white haired boy was just as stupid for leaving valuables where anyone could get them. It was just lucky Bakura had not come out and caught him in the act. The tanned boy had to praise himself, knowing this would get revenge for stealing his keys. Bakura adored the gold ring for some bizarre reason and cherished it. Marik never understood why because it would just attract attention which Bakura never wanted. However the thief wore it proudly, as if it were a medal for some fabulous job he did. So, stealing it would get Bakura thoroughly pissed.

Marik grinned. Of course, he had left a note similar to the one left for him on the unused napkin beside the plate. He needed to assure Bakura that not just anyone had stolen from him. He had written in black biro which, honestly, was a pain in the arse to write with on fabric. Still, Marik's writing looked absolutely horrendous when he finished but it got the message written down. He left the annoying pen by the cutlery before leaving.

_You know Touzoku, leaving your precious ring in the middle of a cafe can easily have it stolen. It's such a good thing that I slipped by and noticed it. Of course, you'd know that I am attracted to gold and won't give it back without an exchange. Meet me back by my bike when you're finished_

The note wasn't particularly threatening or posed anything towards Bakura, but at least it allowed him an opportunity to best the other. All he had to do now was wait. Bakura hadn't taken his jacket off in the cafe so his keys were still with him. This was the only way he could get them back. At least with this lead, Marik could resort to violence if he needed to. Sure, Bakura was his friend but the bastard was sly and did everything to annoy him. Now, it could be the opposite way round. Marik was stronger but Bakura was faster. Still, he supposed that he had the upper hand in a fight if it resulted in one. He would get those keys back damn it, whatever it took.

Another annoyed sigh escaped him. How long did it take to eat a friggin' breakfast? It had been over an hour now since he left the café and still Bakura wasn't here. Or maybe he was and Marik just hadn't noticed him yet. That bastard was an amazing thief, and even Marik couldn't deny the impossible skills the other had. His violet eyes scanned around the dark multi-storey parking to see if he could spot those crimson eyes. To be honest, Marik half expected them to glow amongst the darkness like some demon. Bakura's reputation was definitely akin to that of a creature.

He couldn't see anything though Bakura could easily be hiding behind those tall pillars or something. He was right, of course as he heard faint chuckling. He would have thought it was the sound of the rain on pavement as it was so light, but he could just about spot the outline of a black jacket. Luckily for Marik, he had great eyesight so it was easy to pick out the swinging of the open jacket as Bakura moved around the pillar. He was as graceful as ever, seeming to glide across the tarmac as he swung his body around to face Marik. The Egyptian merely watched with curious, narrowed eyes. He studied Bakura's thin frame and how his body curved whilst he leant on the wall of the car park. This was certainly not what Marik had expected when confronting the thief. Bakura's face was shadowed by long, wet strands of hair, but his expression was calm, almost smug. Marik couldn't help but growl at that fucking smirk that crept onto the pale lips. A dimple carved into Bakura's skin under the sharp cheekbone. Marik just wanted to punch it straight off but instead just copied Bakura's stance, leaning on his motorbike. The other quirked a white eyebrow under the fringe. He had obviously been walking around in the pouring rain for probably half an hour. His body was soaking wet, which, in Marik's opinion, made the other more attractive. Usually Bakura would complain about the weather like this, but he had wanted to infuriate him much more by postponing this meeting.

Marik rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, the ring clinking against his side as it swung in the crook of his elbow. Bakura's eyes focused instantly on the gold when it moved, almost as if he could hear the almost inaudible clinking from that distance. With amusement, Marik noticed Bakura tense up, broad shoulders stiffening against the wall. He would have chuckled but the sound would break this control he seemed to have over Bakura in this moment. Instead, he tilted his head so he could see Bakura more clearly. The thief lowered his brows and revealed his crimson eyes. They were burning, bright blood that swirled above his nose. They were so intense that actually Marik was sure he could see them glow. Despite his earlier thought, Marik deduced the eyes were capable of glowing in the blackness. Maybe Bakura was a demon; Marik never put it past him.

A pale hand rose, almost mechanically and bought the lit cigarette, which Marik hadn't noticed earlier, to his lips. The butt of it shone as brightly as the eyes, burning like a flame. Two thin fingers held the fag steadily. Marik couldn't help staring, realising that Bakura held it like he did a pen. Obviously now, Bakura's third finger bump was caused by the excessive smoking. Strange how Marik had not noticed that before.

Bakura wasn't fazed by the blond boy's staring and continued sucking on the cigarette. The stick's end glowed even brighter as the nicotine was inhaled. When Bakura was satisfied with the long drag, he moved the fag from his mouth and pulled his hand back to his side where it stayed. The plush lips parted as he allowed a large trail of smoke to exit. Marik assumed this was a habit of Bakura's when they were together. Bakura continuously took strong drags from his cigarettes and breathed the smoke out in slow puffs. He thought it was some kind of weird turn on to see Bakura doing this so teasingly, but Marik shut his mind off. He focused on the other lips as they turned up again on his shadowed face, dimple returning. He looked more like a dragon, smoke escaping his mouth and nose, as well as the dark aura that surrounded him. That actually made him laugh which caused Bakura to move his attention back to Marik. He didn't question the sudden laughter, but instead spread his two fingers so the white stick fell to the concrete. His foot came up in a quick movement and stamped down on it so the cigarette lay flat and out against the floor. Marik sighed, knowing ogling Bakura was just wasting time. They weren't here to eye each other, but to get their possessions back.

Marik moved his fingers against the paper ball before flicking his wrist and throwing it to the floor in a small puddle. It shrank and unfolded more, revealing the entire message. The bloody ink ran from the paper and across the water, painting the puddle a clouded black.

"Do you realise how much effort I put into that?" Bakura's dark, amused voice echoed throughout the deserted area they occupied. Marik's head shot up to the looming figure that had suddenly moved closer. His body now stretched against a car a few metres away from him. He definitely looked cat like as his arms raised over his head in a lazy gesture. Marik growled quietly for a moment as he watched Bakura yawn.

"Hardly any" Marik grinned widely, flashing his pearly white teeth. That accompanied with lowered eyes looked positively evil. Bakura chuckled at that and rose from his lazy position on the dirty looking car. He didn't say a word as he strode over to the other and stood before him. He leaned close enough so Marik could feel the warm breath on his lips. Marik couldn't help gaze down at those pale lips that had closed around the cigarette a few minutes ago. They were so plump and luscious that Marik would have leant in and moved his own lips over them. However, he knew Bakura would just freak out or get pissed off. When Marik teased him then it was fine for Bakura to get furious at him, but when it came to sex or mere kissing, Marik was worried of rejection. So, he had refrained himself from leaning in and kissing the asshole, but that never stopped him from gazing at where he wanted to touch. Bakura didn't seem bothered, but he would occasionally tease Marik about staring at him. Nevertheless, Marik would deal with the teasing.

Marik noticed as Bakura moved closer, lips so close to his until they almost brushed. A pale arm stretched to the side and attached to his bike so there was no way he could get away. Not that he wanted to if Bakura was this close to him. He almost forgot why they were here until Bakura's other fingers brushed across the golden spikes in his elbow.

"So, you want your keys back, Ishtar?" Bakura smirked at the way Marik tried straightening up. He pulled the ring further away from the pale hand until it dangled around his wrist. Marik raised an eyebrow and swung the gold slightly around the tip of his finger.

"It would be nice if you did" Marik sighed, struggling to move his eyes from Bakura's bottom lip. A chuckle brushed Marik's cheek as Bakura came closer still. Marik was surprised how much weight his bike could take without falling over. The sweet scent of the pale boy swept through the air and into Marik's senses almost knocking _him _over.

"As you put in that charming note earlier, you're not getting them back without an exchange" Bakura purred. Marik was overpowered by the beautiful aroma that was Bakura to notice when his lips were surrounded by warmth. Bakura moved and slipped his tongue out to lick along the caramel lips against his. He had to admit; this 'exchange' was much more desirable and gave him an advantage. Marik's eyes widened comically when he realised just what Bakura was doing. The pink tongue used Marik's surprise to part the lips and explore his mouth. Marik didn't pull away, too shocked to actually even blink. He stared at Bakura's closed eyes as the tongue licked along his, saliva spreading across his teeth.

He had no idea what Bakura was doing kissing him like this. He had never took interest in Marik sexually. This was definitely a twist. The boy didn't feel Bakura's fingers moving to his wrist and removing the ring's string. He was too focused on the kissing part to notice. He never kissed back but when Bakura pulled away, he felt severely disappointed. The pale boy smirked again, wiping the string of saliva from his chin with the back of his hand. It was then that the Egyptian spotted the golden ring in Bakura's other hand. It swung from his hand gracefully as Bakura picked it up with his hands and pulled the string over his head.

Marik growled but Bakura paid no attention, instead merely winking and making to turn. That bastard had stolen his keys, stolen the ring and stolen a kiss. Fucking thief, and now he was planning on just walking away without even giving the keys back. Marik was already lightheaded by that one sided kiss but two could play this game. As Bakura moved his feet ready to leave, Marik snarled and gripped tightly to the gold, pulling Bakura close by it and smashing their lips together.

Marik could feel Bakura stiffen by the sudden kiss. This made Marik smirk, knowing it was his turn for a kiss. His eyes were closed as he forced his tongue in Bakura's mouth and desperately licked the wet cavern. Immediately he could taste that sweetness he had smelt earlier, and it was just as he imagined. It was so delicious that he couldn't pull away from it. If anything, he leant closer and melted against Bakura's strong form. As he kissed the boy, Marik knew Bakura was distracted enough. Although he probably could feel Marik's fingers wandering over his clothed chest, searching, he never showed it. Bakura seemed much more transfixed on the tongue down his throat than the warm fingers trailing into his open jacket. Marik was just pleased the clothing was open so he didn't waste time. He could keep a kiss going for that long because he needed to breathe. However, thankfully as his tanned nails opened a pocket within the incredibly warm coat, Marik skimmed cold metal with various pointed ends. He sighed in to the kiss and pulled them out until they were pressed perfectly into his closed palm. The metal was soothing and cold. Luckily they weren't wet like Bakura's clothing and lips.

When he needed to breathe again, Marik pulled away and watched with amusement at Bakura's expression. The crimson eyes were no longer sneaky or burning, instead glazed and wide. His lips were slightly puckered, swollen, as he licked the taste of the Egyptian from his lips. Marik eyed Bakura with a raised eyebrow before turning and releasing the golden ring. He glanced over his shoulder as he placed the keys back where they belonged. He really should have brought a camera with him. He had never once seen Bakura look so insanely comical.

"Well, you really shouldn't take my things if you don't expect to be challenged later" Marik smirked, tossing a wink over his shoulder at the still unmoving Bakura. It was only when Marik started to straighten his clothes to get ready to go did Bakura move. His crimson eyes blinked first before focusing again, still slightly glazed. It was obvious Marik's kiss had left Bakura speechless and wanting more. Marik grinned inwardly and moved his leg up to mount the bike. "Nice exchanging with you"

Bakura's eyes shot to Marik at those words and his hands reached forward, grabbing him and turning him back around. "Fuck no. You're not leaving like that" Bakura's left hand had Marik's raised thigh, pressing it to his waist as he moved forward, crashing their mouths together for the third time. Marik laughed as he allowed his mouth to open and moved his tongue across the others. This kiss was much rougher and desperate as both boys responded equally. Marik kissed back ferociously, worming his arms around Bakura's neck as they leant into the bike for support.

Bakura broke the kiss far too quickly, instead using his tongue to run down Marik's neck. He tilted his head to give Bakura better access before grinding up against him. The sensation was incredible although Marik would prefer skin on skin. With that, Marik ripped the golden ring from Bakura's neck, hanging it on the bike's handlebar. Bakura, for once, didn't protest and allowed Marik to shrug off the annoying black jacket on his shoulders. Bakura kept his mouth to Marik's flesh, nipping sensually along the revealed collarbone. Marik knew where this was going and he couldn't stop it. His hormones were driving him crazy already at being touched like this by Bakura. He threw his head back, knees buckling as he moaned loudly. It was a good thing there was no one around now.

Marik never did get home. His clothes accompanied with Bakura's lay haphazardly on the concrete behind the bike and out of view of any people walking nearby. He was definitely sure that he would be stealing things from Bakura again. For that moment though, their stolen possessions sat against the bike. The beautiful golden ring dangled from the handlebar where Marik had left it. Its spikes jingled every time Marik's leg hooked over Bakura's shoulder and ran up the cold gold. The keys in the ignition wobbled with every thrust as it shook the bike. The two thieves had stolen each other's possessions and each other's hearts.


End file.
